


They Found Me in 1981

by 2MusicLover2



Series: They Found Me [1]
Category: Bandom, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band)
Genre: 1981 (album), 1981 AU, F/M, First concert, High School AU (kinda), Ryan is a good friend, angsty Dallon, awkward Dallon, drunk Dallon, high school party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 16:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19976770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2MusicLover2/pseuds/2MusicLover2
Summary: Dallon Weekes and Ryan Seaman are the two members of the band I Don’t Know. Ryan has finally managed to get them a gig at one of their classmate’s parties, but Dallon’s not entirely up to it.





	They Found Me in 1981

The ceiling is infernally boring, but I can't bring myself to stop staring at it. My eyes trace over the same path over and over. My worn out, faded converse rest flat on top of the covers with my knees sticking up into the air. Because of this position, the weight of my bass presses down on my stomach as I pluck the strings just enough to get a sound to come out; I don't feel like being scolded for playing my music too loud today. Normally I'd do it just to annoy everyone, but, for once, I'm not in the mood.   
  
Hesitantly, I hum under my breath, the sound barely even making it to my ears. It's not long before words start pouring out, although they're still quiet. In the back of my mind I think of other parts that would sound good with the music, add to it, that sort of thing.   
  
I keep going until my fingers are numb and my throat is dry. My legs have long since slid down on my bed to dangle off the end and my bass has shifted down so it's now digging into my hip bones, no doubt leaving an imprint of the waistband of my jeans. Slowly, I blink my eyes, each time making it harder to keep them open, until they end up staying shut. Sometime later, it could be anywhere from seconds to hours, my eyes snap back open and I turn my head on my mattress towards the window to see that night has fallen. There's a street lamp on just outside my window, illuminating my view of the empty street my house is on.   
  
With a small groan, I half-roll-half-slide out of bed, keeping a firm grip on the neck of my bass as I unplug it and set it in its stand in the corner of my room. I glance back out the window, but nothing has changed, so I press a fist into the base of my spine and lean back, grunting with every set of pops and cracks that sound as I lean back further. My eyes start to feel heavy again and I sit on the edge of my bed, leaning down to untie my shoes and throw them across my room. My socks are quick to follow, and then come my denim jacket, my jeans, and my t-shirt, leaving me sitting on my bed in nothing but my boxers. I run a hand up through my hair then bring it back flopping down to rest in my lap. Once again, I look out the window, once again, seeing nothing different. I'm too tired for this.   
  
The pillow makes a dull thud when my head hits it. It almost sounds hollow and for a brief moment I wonder if it was the pillow or my head that made the sound. I really should try and sleep. But, I roll over and stare out the window. I don't know why I do it, it's not like I'm expecting anything. Not anymore anyway. I've just gotten so used to it that it's second nature by now.   
  
When I finally do manage to close my eyes against the flickering street lamp, they almost immediately snap back open when I hear a light tapping on my window. I thought she wouldn't come anymore. What reason is there for her to come anymore?   
  
It's not her though.   
  
"Ryan, what the hell, man?" I mutter as I get up from my position in bed and stumble my way over to the window and open it.   
  
Both Ryan and I freeze at the loud noise the window made when it opened, and I slowly turn towards my door, praying that no one heard it. Luckily, I don't see any light slipping in under the door, signifying someone coming to investigate. After a moment's hesitation, I turn back to Ryan and give him the best questioning look I can manage in my tired state. He looks at me for a moment then puts his hand on my chest to push me out of the window so he has room to crawl through. As soon as his feet hit the floor he walks over to my dresser and opens the drawers, pulling clothes out and giving each item a disgusted look before throwing it on the floor behind him.   
  
"You need better clothes," he says, and I wonder if he even meant for me to hear him with how quiet he said it.   
  
I feel my eyebrows shoot up on my head. "What?" I say, more tired than anything. "Ry, what are you talking about? I need better clothes for what? Why did you show up at my window in the middle of the night to go through my dresser?"   
  
"Because, Dallon. We are playing at a party."   
  
I blink at him. "What? Man, I'm tired, I've had a long day and I was just about to fall asleep. Can I do that?"   
  
Ryan rolls his eyes then throws a plain, black shirt at me that he deemed acceptable for this party. "No. This is big; we need to do this. Besides, I know all about your long day, and she'll be there, so if you go, then you can just rub it in her face that you're better off without her. You don't need her and this is your chance to show her that."   
  
"It's been less than twenty-four hours. Can't I at least get a little more grieving time?"   
  
"No. Like I said, you're better without her."   
  
I open my mouth to argue, but he covers my mouth with his hand and shoves a pair of dark wash jeans into my arms.   
  
"Put those on," he says, and I glare at him as I follow his instructions, getting my shoes from where I had thrown them and putting them on as well. "Good. Now, what are the chances of your parents discovering you're missing?"   
  
I turn to look at my bedroom door then look back at Ryan and shrug. "Medium-low."   
  
He looks at me as if weighing his options before he asks, "What are the chances of them actually caring that you're gone?"   
  
I shrug again. "Honestly, they'll probably just assume I'm with you or... they'll just assume I'm with you and go back to sleep."   
  
Ryan grins and the look in his eyes scares me a little. "Out the window we go, then."   
  
"Why am I agreeing to this?"   
  
"Because you're the singer, bassist, and writer of this band and without you, it'd just be a guy playing drums, and for some reason–even though me just playing drums is a great idea for a band because I'm just that amazing–for some reason people don't seem too interested with that concept," he says, pushing me towards the window to make me climb out first. Not long after my feet hit the ground, Ryan slides out of the window and lands next to me holding my bass, which he hands to me so he can pull the window mostly shut.   
  
"So, where is this party and how many songs are we expected to play?" I ask, trailing after Ryan as he makes his way down my empty street.   
  
We turn around the corner and I'm about to ask again when I finally get an answer. "It's, like, not even a mile away. We're almost there," Ryan says.   
  
I honestly didn't even need an answer at this point, because it was clear where the party was. Just up the street lined with cars, there is a house that seemed to be bursting with kids from school. The house is barely bigger than mine, definitely not big enough to have a party in, but somehow they've made it work.   
  
My bass feels heavy in my hand and I put the strap over my shoulder as we walk up the driveway and Ryan knocks on the door, not even waiting for someone to answer it before he walks in. I'm instantly greeted by the stench of sweaty teens, alcohol, and vomit, and I gag, covering my mouth with one hand and grabbing Ryan's sleeve with the other. He leads us towards what must have been the living room and then we struggle through the crowd towards where his drum set has been set up.   
  
At first, everyone presses in on us as we pass through, but as soon as we make it to the drum set, they back away and give us room.   
  
"Alright, the band's here!" I hear someone shout from the crowd and it goes silent. A kid that I vaguely recognize from my English class comes up to fix the mic stand for me, and my eyes follow him as he blends back into the crowd and I see her standing there with him.   
  
Ryan says my name from behind me and I break my gaze away from where she stands, not even paying attention to me, to look at him.   
  
"What d'ya wanna play?" he asks, and I shrug.   
  
She's still hanging all over him. They're the only people at this entire party that are even talking right now. Everyone else is holding their breath, waiting for us to play. Of course she doesn't care, though.   
  
So I play. It doesn't take long for Ryan to join in and you can't even tell that he wasn't expecting me to start. You can't tell that we have never played this song before, ever, and that we were just coming up with it as we went. Sometimes that's how the best songs come around.   
  
As I sing, I see her smile falter. She knows it's about her, because how couldn't she? Who else would I want to choke themself to sleep?   
  
All attention is focused on me except for hers. So I keep my attention focused on her. Even he has caught on and is glancing between her and I, looking for an explanation. I shake my head at them and everyone turns to look at them. She still hasn't looked at me, instead still drowning herself in her drink. My smile has replaced hers.   
  
I keep grinning as the song comes to an end and he's still looking at her confused. She refuses to look at either of us which makes me laugh. There's a small smattering of applause and I bow, soaking up the glory of how uncomfortable she is with me here commanding everyone's thoughts and ideas.   
  
Ryan moves from behind his drums and throws an arm around my shoulders, gently nudging me out of the way so he can take the mic.   
  
"And that, my friends, was _I Don't Know_ with our song _Choke_!"   
  
" _Choke_?" I whisper to him in question.   
  
He covers the mic and looks at me, giving a slight shrug. "Yeah, _Choke_. It fits doesn't it?"   
  
"I mean, yeah, I guess," I say, and that's the end of it.   
  
The crowd claps for us again, this time a little louder and with more people. Ryan gives them a moment to quiet back down, and then he's introducing our next song. "So, this one is slightly older than _Choke_ ," he says, and I laugh. "We've been working on it for the past few days and I hope you like it. Here's _Do It All The Time_!"   
  
I give Ryan a minute to sit back down at his drum set before I start with the opening riff. It's not the first time I've played this, and I feel confident with it, so I dance more than I did with Choke. About halfway through the song, I motion a few girls up to dance with us. Honestly, it's mostly just to try and make her jealous, but also because despite what I initially thought about tonight, I'm having fun, and I'm not about to let her ruin that for me.   
  
Nothing I do seems to keep her attention, though. Then again, it's hard to keep her attention when I never even had it in the first place.   
  
So, when we finish the song and the girls start to head back into the crowd, I onto the arm of the girl closest to me and make the most pleading face I can, trying to get her to stay with me. She does, and she even calls for her friends to come back with her. I throw my arms around their shoulders and look out at everyone victoriously. I try to flaunt it as much as I can, but she's still not paying attention to me. He's left her, however, so that has to count for something.   
  
Ryan pushes himself in between the two girls on my left and I pass the mic over to him. As it passes in front of the girl in between us, her giggles are picked up and amplified for everyone to hear for a fraction of a second, yet it still makes me feel nauseous. This isn't me. I don't pride myself in having drunk, giggly girls using my arm to keep themselves standing while I parade them around like my pets. I've only ever had _her_ on my arm, and she never acted like this.   
  
"We're gonna play one more song before we take a quick break," Ryan says and is met with a mixture of whines and cheers. "Don't worry, it's only a break, we'll be back to play a few more songs for you, but for now, here's _Bleed Magic_!"   
  
The girls on either side of Ryan follow him back to his drum set. One of them, the one that had been between us, drapes herself over Ryan's back, wraps her arms around his shoulders and buries her face in his neck. I can't help but think that that won't end well and am quickly proved right. Just as I start singing, one of the girls that stayed standing by me slides her hand up my shirt and then dips her fingers just below the waistband of my jeans and my breath stutters. The words of the song come out much higher than they're supposed to be and way out of tune, so I stop.   
  
"Should I- should I try that again?" I stammer out, and glance back to see Ryan flipping his outrageous blue-green hair out of his face with a nervous expression. I've never seen him nervous in public before; I'm the nervous one. Then again, neither of us have ever been openly groped in public and if these girls are confident enough to do it to me, then they're confident enough to do it to him, too.   
  
Ryan shrugs as if he's trying to play it cool, but I can see the panic in his eyes. "Yeah," he says.   
  
This time, when we start the song, it starts out perfectly fine. I start singing and playing bass, everything is sounding good, and then the hand slides a little further down my pants, yet still resting safely above the fabric of my boxers. I choke a little on my words, and my fingers stumble across the fretboard of my bass, but I manage to keep going. Somehow, I smile through it. Until Ryan drops his sticks. It's at a point in the music where it almost seems like he did it on purpose, and luckily the crowd seems to think that's what it was. We've managed to completely fool this crowd into thinking the song is supposed to sound like this, with all of the stutters and mess ups, when really it's just us freaking out about getting some action.   
  
When the song ends and everyone cheers, at first I grin and give a slight bow, but then I start thinking that they really did know that we completely screwed up that song and they're only cheering because it's finally over. I don't have much time to worry about it however, because she storms her way over to me and grabs my arm, yanking me away from the microphone and to a quiet hallway that barely anyone is occupying. The few people that are there take one look at us and quickly leave. I don't really blame them; I wish I could leave.   
  
"What the hell was that, Dallon?" she questions, the fire in her voice matching that of her expression.   
  
I try to play it cool, I really do. She's just standing there looking beyond pissed off and I try to act like she's not scaring me and I'm not afraid for my life, but I am. So when I attempt at speaking, the only thing that comes out is a little squeak.   
  
"Give me a real answer, Dallon! What the hell was that? You can't be letting girls hang all over you like that, you're mine!" she says, angrily and demanding, and I gain a little bit of courage over her.   
  
"I'm not yours. You left me, so I can do what I want. Just face it, I've moved on from you."   
  
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "Moved on a little quickly, don't you think?"   
  
I shrug. "You moved on before we even broke up."   
  
She looks like she's about to say something when the new focus of her affections comes to stand behind her. "Is he bothering you?" I hear him mumble into her ear.   
  
"Don't even start with that," I say. "She's the one that dragged me over here to talk to me. I'd be happy to leave."   
  
She narrows her eyes at me in a glare and I smirk right back at her, exuding the confidence that seems to only be part of my personality for this one night. I'm thankful for that though, because this is honestly the only night I really need it.   
  
"Go," she finally says, and I give them a small bow as I back out of the hallway to try and find Ryan.   
  
There's too many people here and Ryan is the one that brought me, so I feel like he needs to stick with me for the rest of this. I pass through the room we were playing in and I'm about to set my bass down, but then a couple making out runs into me as they stumble towards a wall, and I decide to keep my precious instrument with me.   
  
Holding my bass tightly against my body so I can both use it as a shield and protect it, I make my way into the kitchen where I quickly find Ryan leaning against the sink with a bottle of absinthe in his hand. I start heading towards him, but my path is blocked almost immediately by the girls who were standing with us while we played music.   
  
“Hi, Dallon!” one of the girls, the one who had first started groping me at the beginning of _Bleed Magic_ , says.   
  
I try not to cringe at how her voice sounds both perky and like she’s orgasming. “Hi…” I trail off, trying to look over the girls’ heads and catch Ryan’s eye, but he’s not paying any attention to me. “Listen, I would love to talk, but maybe another time, okay? I just really need to talk to Ryan right now.”   
  
The girls all get matching pouts on their faces. One of them opens her mouth, most likely to start pleading with me, but I carefully start to move around them. “Another time…” I mumble, and they probably can’t hear me, but I don’t care because Ryan is looking at me now and he’s giving me that look that he gets when he thinks I’m keeping something from him and I need to talk to him now, please.   
  
“Hey, what’s-” he starts when I make it to him, but he cuts himself off when I grab his arm and start pulling him away from the group that has gathered around him. We pass back through the living room and I vaguely register him setting the bottle he had next to his drum set as we walk by. I go down the hallway that I was just in and am pleased to find that the bathroom is open, so I quickly drag Ryan in after me and shut the door.   
  
"I can't do this anymore, man. We gotta go. She started talking to me and I'm not ready for this. It's too much, too soon," I rant, pacing as much as I can in the cramped bathroom. Ryan puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me still, and I look up at him, pleading with him. "Why did you make me come?"   
  
He sighs gently and lets his arms fall to his sides before resting his elbows up on the sink behind him. His eyes keep flicking from the floor, to me, and then back to the floor, and his right hand pushes through his hair, grabbing a fistful of the blue-green locks at the top of his head. Finally, he squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them back up he releases his death-grip on his hair and returns to his relaxed position leaning against the sink. "I need you to make this band work. I got us this gig and we needed to play it if we want this thing to go anywhere. Can you stick it out for just an hour longer? Then we can leave and you can go back to laying in your bed and moping about your breakup."   
  
My throat constricts on itself and it becomes difficult to breathe, let alone speak. "Ryan," I manage to get out, my voice sounding weak– weaker than I can ever remember it being.   
  
Ryan shakes his head and leans back. The single light bulb above our heads highlights all of his face, making it easier for me to see his muscles twitching as he sorts through his thoughts and emotions. "I've always said she was shit." His head is still tilted back and his eyes are closed, but his expressions are no longer changing. No matter how hard I try, I can't pinpoint what exactly he is thinking, however.   
  
"I know you have," I mumble, and everything about me gives away how confused that statement made me.   
  
"Do you see it now?" He asks, his head rolling down so he can look at me.   
  
"What?"   
  
"She's shit. Do you see that now? Would you go back to her if she asked you?"   
  
I look at the floor, not wanting to see his reaction to my answer. "Well, yeah. I love her."   
  
"But she doesn't love you and that's not good for you. She's not good for you. None of them are good for you."   
  
"None of them? Who else do you think I want but her? No one else matters."   
  
Ryan slams his palm against the edge of the sink and turns around so he's no longer facing me. "It didn't seem like you only wanted her when we were playing _Bleed Magic_."   
  
"Why does that matter, though? Why does any of this matter? I just wanted to know why you brought me to this thing when you know that I hate parties!" I say, my voice getting louder with which word until it ends with a shout.   
  
Ryan and I lock eyes with each other's reflections. We stare unblinkingly at each other for what feels like an eternity before Ryan finally breaks and opens his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is much calmer than mine. "You're my best friend, Dal. You were broken and I needed you to not be. I wanted to show you–yes, I'm gonna say it–I wanted to show you that-"   
  
"Ry, please."   
  
"Dallon. You can't just go the rest of your life without even thinking her name. Someone is bound to say it in front of you eventually and if you're going to break down over it, I'd rather it be with just you and me there than in a crowded place or somewhere when I'm not there to help you. So you have to let me say it."   
  
Slowly, my eyes slide shut and I suck in a breath, holding it there while I wait for the blow. I give a slight nod of my head, letting Ryan know that I'm ready, or as ready as I'll ever be.   
  
"Lily," he says quietly, and I cringe. "I wanted to show you that Lily is a bitch."   
  
My eyes open and I see that Ryan is facing me again, but what catches my attention is my own reflection. Looking back at me in the dingy mirror, I see streaks of tears staining my cheeks, but I didn't think I was crying. My hair has fallen flat on my head and is sticking to my forehead, and I look completely and utterly broken. Ryan moves from the edge of my vision so he is standing in front of me, blocking my view of myself.

“Dallon,” he says, his voice barely loud enough to even be considered a whisper. “You needed to see it. She used you, and those other girls when we were playing, they want to use you, too. Lily is done with you now, she got what she wanted-”

“And what was that? What did she want? Because I don’t remember her using me for anything.”

“A game. She was playing with you, Dallon. It’s what she does. She finds someone who she can make fall in love with her, and once she knows she has him, she’s gone, already moved on to find her next little toy. She played with you and you gave her exactly what she wanted, so she left you. I brought you here so you could show her that she failed at turning you into nothing. I wanted you to prove her wrong, beat her at her own game, make her think she didn’t win. That’s why I brought you here. I know you hate parties, and I’m sorry, but I needed to fix you, and this is all I could think of to do that, so let me fix you,” Ryan says, his voice sounding angry until it breaks on the last word. “Let me fix this.”

  
I sink to the floor and cradle my bass in my lap, slowly stroking the strings as I stare at the sink just behind Ryan, staring but not seeing.   
  
"What-" I cut myself off and swallow down the painful lump in my throat that was threatening to force out my sobs. "You say you want to fix this. What are you fixing? How are you going to fix it?"   
  
Ryan slides down onto the floor in front of me. We're so close that I can feel the warm pressure of his knees against mine and I have no choice but to look at him. "I'm fixing the fact that you don't think you can live without Lily, because you can. She's useless to you."   
  
"But how, Ryan?" I ask, tired and exasperated.   
  
"By making her see that you don't want her. Once she sees it, you can see it. So we need to go out there and at least act like we're having a good time. Drink a little. Play a couple more songs. Maybe dance with a few girls. Whatever it takes to get her to think you're done with her."   
  
"I already told her I've moved on though."   
  
Ryan looks at me, clearly confused. "Is that what happened when she dragged you off just a little bit ago?"   
  
I nod at him and he takes my bass from me, which I had been absentmindedly playing out quiet chords and riffs, not quite a song, but something that could be with a little more work. He looks at it carefully and places his hands in the position mine had been before attempting to mimic what I had been playing. A few of the notes are off, so I reach over to fix his fingers, and he plays it right.   
  
The doorknob rattles next to us and Ryan shoots a glare at it as he hands me back my bass and stands up, only opening the door a crack to look out of it and see who is there.   
  
On the other side of the door, I hear the voice of the girl who had been trying to talk to me earlier. "Oh. Hey, Ryan. Have you seen Dallon anywhere lately? It's just... I wanted to talk to him but he left."   
  
"No, I haven't. Sorry. I'll tell him you're looking for him, though," Ryan replies, then shuts the door. "I'm guessing you didn't really want to talk to her if you left," he says to me once he sits back down on the tile.   
  
I shrug. "I was kind of distracted. I wouldn't mind talking to her, I guess. It's just that- sh- Lily," I choke out the name, flinching as I say it even though Ryan's eyes light up at my attempts to move on, "had just talked to me and I needed to see you."   
  
The excitement in Ryan's expression melts into sympathy, although I can still see a hint of it dancing in his eyes. "I should be a psychiatrist."   
  
I burst into laughter. "Excuse me, what? Why?" I say, the laughs still bubbling out as I speak.   
  
"It's true!" Ryan replies, now laughing along himself. "Just ten minutes ago you could barely look at her and now you've said her name! Also, you're laughing. I got you to laugh, even when you claim you're completely devastated over a girl, therefore, I should be a psychiatrist!"   
  
"Oh, no," I laugh. "You don't get to start this band with me, drag me along to parties that I have no interest in, just to leave me and become a psychiatrist. That's not how this works."   
  
"Isn't it, though?"   
  
Our laughter slowly dies down and I go back to softly plucking the strings on my bass while Ryan looks over to the door, his knee bouncing up and down against mine.   
  
"Come on, then," I say, standing up and walking the short distance over to the door.   
  
"What?" Ryan says from where he's still sitting on the floor while I look cautiously out of the door to make sure no one is there before I open it wider and step out into the hallway.   
  
"Well, you wanted to get back to the party, didn't you?"   
  
Ryan scoffs at me, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling in a dramatic display that only adds to my assumption that he's being impatient, as usual, and wants to start playing again.   
  
"I know you, Ry. Now, c'mon. We'll party for a little bit, play two more songs, and then we'll leave."   
  
With a great sigh, Ryan stands up to follow me out of the bathroom and back towards the party, but as he brushes past me in the hallway, I catch a glimpse of his grateful smile.   
  
As soon as we're back in the living room, we're greeted with cheers and a crowd a people swarming around us, pushing cups and bottles dripping alcohol into our hands. Ryan pushes the alcohol back at people, as gently as he can, saying he already has a bottle of absinthe, which he then retrieves from where he left it next to his drum set. He brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a drink from it, then offers it to me. I regard it for a moment, before shrugging and taking the bottle from him to drink. I cringe at the burn in my throat and decide that I drank too much at once. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that you're supposed to drink it as a shot, but Ryan had obviously been too lazy to carry around shot glasses to pour it in. Despite the fact that I can already feel a slight haze coming over my mind, I take another quick drink, this time making sure I only have a little and that it goes straight to my throat so I don't have to taste it. Vaguely, I register Ryan taking the bottle and my bass from me, but I'm already distracted, walking– or rather, stumbling– across the living room and into the kitchen where I had spotted the girl from earlier talking to Lily. My heart skips a beat when I think of her name, but the nausea that accompanies it is quickly erased by the blur of the alcohol in my system.   
  
Both girls look up at me as I approach them, Lily with a look of disgust and the other girl with what seems to me like a look of hope. I make sure to stand next to the girl as closely as I can when I make it to them, breathing in the smell of her hair in an exaggerated display that I pray Lily noticed.   
  
"Hello, darling," I slur into the girl's ear, attempting at being sexy and seductive, but probably failing. Nevertheless, the girl looks up at me with a coy smile and her fingers play at the collar of my shirt. "Care to dance?" I ask, and she nods, gently nudging me towards the living room where everyone is dancing.   
  
Of course, it's less dancing and more her moving against me provocatively while I stand with my hands on her hips, moving slightly to the music while I give her a look that can only be described as a leer. The tips of her fingers, previously dancing song the collar of my shirt, slide down my chest and stomach until they meet the hem of my shirt, slipping under it and traveling back upwards. Everywhere she touches it feels like ice and I don't want this– it's not right, it's not Lily– but at the same time I'm afraid I'd die without it. Just as I feel her fingers dip below the waistband of my underwear, someone bumps into us and she pulls away. Whoever it was, some dude that won't stop laughing, offers me his cup, the contents sloshing around as he does so, and I gladly take it, quickly downing all of it in a few gulps. I'm slightly disappointed at the fact that it was only beer, but whatever. This girl is dancing with me again, not nearly as close as before, but she's still dancing, so I can't be bothered to care.   
  
It's not too long before I bump into someone else. I turn around to see who it was a little to quickly and Ryan catches me as I start to stumble.   
  
"Okay, I think that's enough drinks and fun for you. We've still got to play again," he says, his hands still holding my biceps to keep me steady.   
  
I shake my head, then bring my hands up to hold it when it only makes me feel dizzy. "Nah, man. I like this. Gimme more!"   
  
"Dallon. Sit down or something. You've gotta sing in about half an hour and you can barely talk. Come on, let's go sit."   
  
"But- bu' I've got a girl, man! We're dancin' and I think-" I lean in closer to Ryan, draping myself over him and breathing my next words into his ear. "I think she wants to have sex with me."   
  
Ryan pushes me away from him, holding me at arms length, but not letting go. "And now you're definitely coming with me because you are way too drunk right now."   
  
"Uh uh. You said to have fun, so tha's what I'm doin' and you can' stop me."   
  
I stick my tongue out Ryan and am about to go back to dancing with that girl when I feel one arm snake around my waist and another go around the backs of my knees and suddenly I'm upside down. I open my mouth to tell Ryan to put me down, but everything rushes towards my head and I know I'm about to throw up so I clamp my mouth back shut. My head starts pounding and the floor is spinning as I look at it from where I'm dangling over Ryan's shoulder, so I shut my eyes as tightly as I did my mouth.   
  
"Okay, Dal," Ryan says as he sets me back down on my feet and I open my eyes to see we're back in the bathroom. As quickly as I can I fall onto my knees in front of the toilet and I immediately empty the contents of my stomach into it. "That's right, let it all out."   
  
I feel him running his fingers through me hair, getting it all together before he starts holding it back for me. God, I'm a mess. I remember when this used to be the other way around with Ryan sick on the floor and me gently patting his back while I kept his hair puke free. What happened to us? Was a single girl really enough to change us entirely?   
  
When I've stopped spitting into the toilet and all I can do is dry heave, I sit back and Ryan gives me a wad of toilet paper to wipe my face off with. I want something to get the foul taste out of my mouth, but I know I'm out of luck. All I've got to do is make it through two more songs and then I can go home.   
  
I look up at Ryan from the floor and see him looking back at me in a mixture of disappointment and pity.   
  
"They kept giving me more drinks, I couldn't just stop," I say, hoping it will explain everything and that he will understand.   
  
Instead of understanding, he grabs my arm and pulls me up to stand then walks away from me. I start following him and as soon as I catch up to him in the hallway, he shoves me away from him. "Whatever they give you, stop drinking it down. We've got a show to do and we can't do it if you're drunk off your ass."   
  
I stare after him as he walks away, back towards the living room. We don't normally fight like this. Maybe he was right, Lily isn't good for me. She is technically the reason we're fighting.   
  
Shaking my head lightly to clear my thoughts, I make my way back to the stage where I find Ryan already behind his drum set, my bass propped up against the wall next to him. I blink a bit, still feeling the effects of the alcohol, and pick my bass up, checking it over to make sure it's okay. When I've decided that nothing has hurt it and the tuning hasn't been changed, I pull the strap over my head and stand behind the microphone. Everything seems overly bright, and I have to squint to even see the general shape of the crowd.   
  
"We're back," I say into the microphone, silently thanking God that you can only hear the slur in my voice if you're looking for it. "Um, this one is a little newer, and I think it's really fitting for tonight. Here's _Social Climb_."   
  
I close my eyes to the lights and the crowd, pretending I'm back in my room, laying down on my bed and playing the song that I had written just before Ryan had come to bring me here. When I open my eyes again at the end of the song, I quickly scan the crowd, but find no sign of Lily, or the guy she was with when I first arrived. I do, however, see the girl I was dancing with, staring at me like I'm going to ask her to come stand with me again. I don't. I just go straight into the next song, not even bothering to give it an introduction.   
  
This one sounds so much darker and more like rock than anything else we've played so far tonight. The bass line is what Ryan and I played in the bathroom, and at the end of the chorus, I throw in the line Ryan had said to me earlier, screaming into the microphone " _Whatever they give you, stop drinking it down_!"   
  
The entire mood of the party shifts, and I watch as some people seem to get uncomfortable and start leaving. I don't stop playing, though; it needs to be heard.   
  
By the end of the song, only a handful of people are left, and I don't even bother speaking into the microphone to address them. They'll hear me.   
  
"Thank you for coming and thanks to you guys for staying. That was a little song I like to call," I glance around the room, my eyes landing on the bottle of absinthe where someone had left it on a side table, " _Absinthe_. Thanks again, and good night."   
  
I give a little bow, back to my awkward self, and then around to find that Ryan is already standing and making his way towards the door. I quickly follow him, and we walk in silence all the way back to my house, where he opens the window enough for us to fit through. He carefully crawls in ahead of me, then takes my bass from me through the window so I can have an easier time making it through myself. When we're both back in my room, he shuts the window again and starts stripping his clothes off down to his boxers.   
  
"What are you doing?" I ask, standing clueless in the middle of the floor.   
  
"My parents caught me leaving so I told them I was just coming over here to spend the night. Can't go back to my house now, can I?" he answers as he takes the extra pillow and one of the extra blankets from my bed and puts them on the floor so he can lay down and wrap himself in the blanket.   
  
I just shake my head, copying his actions of getting undressed, then climb into my bed, mumbling a quiet "Whatever, man. G'night."   


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic as if iDKHow was a band in the 80s, and this is what I came up with. I might add on some more, but I’m not sure. I’ve just started getting back into writing recently but my Senior year is starting in less than a month so it’s just gonna depend on how much time I have. I would like to expand on this world, I really enjoyed writing Dallon and Ryan and I know that they’re out of character with this, but I felt that it wouldn’t really be the same Dallon and Ryan that we know and love. Let me know what you think!


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